


#krisallenpornstar

by astolat



Category: American Idol RPF (Season 8)
Genre: Imported, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-25
Updated: 2009-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right now this didn't feel like the easiest way to make five grand to print a CD with anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#krisallenpornstar

[Main fanfic page](../)

  
Written for the [Kink Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/2779.html) challenge! 

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locks/chains | [fucking machines](http://www.intimations.org/fanfic/idol/Sex%20Machine.shtml) | [roleplay/au (authority figures)](http://www.intimations.org/fanfic/idol/Under%20Protest.shtml) | [plushies/furries](http://www.intimations.org/fanfic/idol/Appetite.shtml) | ageplay  
---|---|---|---|---  
[painplay (other)](http://www.intimations.org/fanfic/idol/Love%20in%20the%20Time%20of%20Paper%20Clips.shtml) | bondage (other) | voyeurism | sensory deprivation | bondage (wrist restraints)  
pegging/strap-ons | worship |  | [roleplay/au (prostitution)](http://www.intimations.org/fanfic/idol/krisallenpornstar.shtml) | electricity  
leather/latex/rubber | [washing/cleaning each other](http://www.intimations.org/fanfic/glam/happy_ending.shtml) | tattoos/tattooing | whipping/flogging | object penetration (unusual objects)  
gunplay | virginity/celibacy | crossdressing (underwear/lingerie) | [double penetration (one hole)](http://www.intimations.org/fanfic/idol/Synaesthesia.shtml) | foot fetish  
  
(for the prostitution au prompt—cheating a little bit but I have another hooker au prompt for cliché bingo so I think I am entitled to tweak one!—and the [ai_kinkmeme](http://community.livejournal.com/ai_kinkmeme/1485.html?thread=573133))

**#krisallenpornstar**

by astolat

Kris had thought it was going to be easier than this, somehow. Because he'd done this before, close enough, back in college: a frat party and a guy offering a thousand bucks each for straight guys to go camping and make out. A thousand bucks had meant a new guitar and amp, so he'd gone for it. He'd jerked off a couple of guys, he'd gotten a hand job, somebody had blown him, there'd been a little bit of kissing and rolling around on a sleeping bag. This wasn't supposed to be anything more.

But there'd only been one guy with a camcorder, and now Kris was supposed to go out there and get blown in front of six big-ass cameras, movie lights and production assistants everywhere, and right now that didn't feel like the easiest way to make five grand to print a CD with anymore. Except he didn't know any other way, period. L.A. ate every last cent of his bartender job, and his parents wanted him home; the only thing they'd send him was a plane ticket. 

He could still walk if he changed his mind, he told himself, stepping out, and tried not to notice the smirks, the _check out the twink_ remarks, the cameras staring down at him on the big round bed, blue silk sheets like a bad cliche. He wanted to cover his dick, but it was going on film anyway, and he didn't need to feel any more like a blushing virgin than he already did. 

"Adam, on-set," somebody called, and Kris rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck without looking. He was going to get a blowjob, he was going to get a paycheck, he was going to get to make his album. There was no bad here.

"Oh, hey," somebody said, and Kris looked up at Adam: Adam, who it turned out was six goddamn feet tall, with black hair and eyeliner and a really big cock that was right at eye level and unavoidable. His mouth curved slow and delighted, like this was going to be fun for him. 

"Oh, you _are_ pretty," Adam said, happily, and Kris was about to say that they could just keep this professional, thanks, and then Adam was pushing him back on the bed and kissing him, a long hot tongue sliding deep into Kris's mouth, and Adam pressing between his legs, his robe slithering off cool against Kris's bare thighs, the silk sheets feeling almost wet against his back. 

Kris couldn't breathe all that well when Adam broke off. He felt hot and dizzy, and he had his hands on Adam's waist. "I, uh," he said, blankly—he thought there were lines, there was some kind of script. "Do we—what do I—"

Adam was kissing up his throat, tilting Kris back to put kisses on the underside of his jaw. Kris stared into his own reflection in the camera lens staring back, stretched out over the lens. "Adam," he said, watching his mouth move over it. 

Adam nuzzled at Kris's mouth. " _So_ pretty," he said, tiny licks inside, pushing his tongue in until Kris opened his mouth wider for it, for more kissing. 

"I don't think I'm going to blow you," Adam said thoughtfully. "I think you're going to blow me."

"Uh," Kris said, because he couldn't make his mouth work anything more complicated, like _hell no_ , or _stop_ , or _please_ , and Adam was putting a pillow under his head and stepping off the bed, and his cock was huge and hard, the head nudging at Kris's mouth. 

"Go ahead," Adam said softly, petting Kris's head, and Kris panted a few times and then opened his mouth, and Adam pushed his cock inside. It was hard, sliding thick and heavy over Kris's tongue, pushing back into his mouth. The cameras were closing in on them. Kris tried to swallow, his mouth watering, and Adam made a low approving noise, his hand sliding into Kris's hair. "Just relax for me, baby," Adam said, and slid in a little deeper—in, and then pulled out, pushing through Kris's lips. 

One of the cameras was swinging down low on Kris's body, angling up him towards his mouth, getting Adam pressing into him. Kris noticed for the first time his own dick was hard, jutting up against his stomach, red. He choked a little, feeling hot embarrassment rushing into his face—the camera getting him like this, getting off on just this, sucking some random guy's cock. 

"Are you blushing?" Adam said, low and warm, and he was brushing his knuckles over Kris's cheek. "You _are_ , I can't believe you, God. Where did they find you?" and he sounded so happy, so pleased that it made the whole thing feel different. Like Kris was something special, and he shut his eyes while Adam's fingers touched his lips where he was sucking Adam's cock, stroked back over Kris's cheek. 

His cock was so hard he ached, and he wanted to reach down, except when he tried, Adam caught his wrist and said, "No, baby, not yet," smiling down at him, and put Kris's hand back on his thigh instead. Kris groaned and gripped tight, sucking harder. Adam was sliding back and forth a little faster now, fucking his mouth, breathing hard, and Kris had a minute to think— _he's going to come in my mouth_ —and then Adam was pulling out and coming _on_ him instead, splashing hot on Kris's open mouth and on his cheek and his neck, across his collarbone and in his hair, Jesus. 

He stared up at Adam, shocked, and then Adam was pressing him back, kissing him again, licking come out of his mouth and off his cheek, long wet strokes of his tongue. Adam had a hand between his own legs and was jerking his cock hard again, already—he sat up and reached over to the lube sitting on the headboard, squeezing it out onto his hand and rubbing it onto his cock, down and up and over, head shiny and wet sliding out of his fist. 

Kris panted for breath. His throat ached, some, and his jaw, and he was still sticky all over with Adam's come, and his dick was harder than it had ever been in his life. "Can I—" he asked, desperately, his hand creeping down. 

"No," Adam said, kissing him, and Kris had to clench his hands into the silk sheets to keep from grabbing himself. He wasn't sure when Adam had gotten the final say on—on everything, it seemed like, except it felt so good, so _right_ to lie here under him and let Adam decide how this was going to go, even with Adam's fingers pressing into him wet and slick with lube, making it clear what Adam had decided was next. 

"Is this your first time, baby?" Adam said softly. 

"Yeah," Kris managed. It felt weird, full and unsexy, except for the way it made his cock ache, and watching Adam's hand moving between his legs, Adam's cock there thick and _waiting_ , and the cameras all close around them. It had gotten quiet on the set—nobody talking or walking around. 

"Oh." Adam's eyes got heavy-lidded and low, and he leaned in. "It's _really_ your first time, isn't it?" He curved his fingers abruptly, inside. 

"I, uh, _yes_ ," Kris said, straining against them, fuck, _fuck_ , _fuck_ , that was—"Please," he said. "Yes, it's, please." 

"I won't make you beg," Adam said, kissing him some more. "Not this time."

"This time," Kris said, not even making it a question. Adam had slung one of Kris's legs up over his shoulder, and he was—that was his cock. It was—"Wow, was this a bad idea," Kris said, a little laughter bubbling up from inside, just the safe side of hysterical. 

"It was an amazing idea," Adam said, dreamily. He pushed in harder, and Kris felt his leg kick a little, helplessly. "I am so taking you home after this."

Kris shut his eyes as Adam started to fuck him, and thought maybe he'd be okay with that. 

All feedback much appreciated!

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